Scenes of a Drow
by Luma66
Summary: Various scenes in the life of Zin, an expriestess of Lolth. These stories are a collection of scenes that take place after Dancing with Destiny.
1. Chapter 1

These are author's notes, or rather author's rambling, to let the readers know what is going on. The stories will continue in the following chapters.

The following stories contain scenes from the life of my original character Zin or as some will know her from my previous story, Zin'vey Na'shar. All of the following stories takes place after "Dancing with Destiny", which can be found here, Lavender Eyes, and Deviant Art. I will not go into details of her past in case some of you have not read her first story.

Needless to say this collection goes into her character and how she is trying to deal with what happened. Some of the stories were written for contests or challenges on other sites, and others were written just for my own piece of mind. Zin can be a really hard character to have in your head.

I decided to stick mainly to short scenes of her since I cannot get her to stick to a plot longer than a few pages. I had so much trouble writing the other story and she seems to cooperate better this way. I'm hoping in doing this, I can bring all the stories together in the end and it will, in general, tell her story, plot and all.

All I ask from you readers are, if you have a minute after reading, please leave a review. And most of all enjoy the stories.


	2. Chapter 2

Green

The hunched and cloaked figure made their way through the milling throng of shoppers and merchants. If anyone had cared to look closely at the shuffling form, all they would have seen was an elderly ogress, stooped with age, carrying a few parcels, perhaps to her mistress or master somewhere else in the city. But no one did look, that was the lovely thing about being in a drow city, everyone kept to their own business, never paying too much attention to anyone else.

The ogress made her slow way out of the bazaar and down a dirty, garbage-strewn alley. She took several turns down other similar routes, until she finally came to a disguised tunnel, that led out of the city of drow and into what was referred to as the wilds.

It was said no one could live alone in the wilds because of all the denizens that dwelt there hook horrors, illithids, several varieties of psionic parasites, and any number of other lethal creatures. That was only if you didn't know where to make your home, for the crooked figure making their way through small unused tunnels, did indeed live in the wilds alone, just the way she wanted it.

Arriving at the small round entrance to her 'home' the ogress pushed her parcels in ahead of her, then shimmied inside the hole. Emerging from the other end of the chute, the ogress twisted a shiny-etched ring on her left forefinger, her image shimmered and standing in the ugly ogress' place was a drow female. She was completely average in every respect, from her flowing white hair, ebony skin, and red glowing eyes.

Picking up her bundles, the female, made her way to her cluttered work tables. Passing a sheet of beaten metal in the corner that she used for a mirror, the drow stopped and looked approvingly at herself. "Well Zin, you don't look too bad for being a stinking ogre a few minutes ago." A disturbing cackle followed her words, until her eyes found the image of her belt in the beaten mirror. The site of that white length tied around her waste always brought a frown to her face when nothing else could. The white braid hung below her knee, even after the length fastened around her waist, she'd had it enchanted to never break or fray. The braid had belonged to the male she had called patron, like the ring of shape changing had belonged to her youngest brother, and the dagger hanging at the nape of her neck, had belonged to her twin brother. All gone now, Rilmarn and Fimeral dead and Narfein a drider, and she had claimed the fault for it all.

Giving herself a little shake, Zin took her eyes from her image and moved to her work station. Tying her hair back to keep it out of the way, she laid out the contents of the various packages, making sure to keep certain ones away from others. She didn't have much time to get her next batch of poisons ready, a scouting party was due in one of the adjacent tunnels in a few days, and one of her more loyal customers was to be a member. If she didn't make a good sell now, she would not be able to buy more supplies the next time she visited the city.

"Beakers, beakers, where are you beakers?" Zin asked nothing in particular. Since her exile from society she had taken to talking to herself regularly, it was only one of her unusual habits she had acquired since the destruction of her family. "There you are. Now to light a small fire. Water, water, I need water." The drow continued to mutter and talk as she went about her amalgams.

"Now just a pinch of this, a leaf of that, a bit of lichen." Zin added each item to the bubbling contents of the glass jar as she named them, watching the contents to make sure she had put in exactly the right amount.

Two red eyes stared intently at the boiling mixture, she had to time it just right, if the contents didn't reach a certain temperature, they would be about as poisonous as rothe' spittle. The colors of the mixture turned from a light blue to a deep dark green that was Zin's cue to remove the beaker and mixture from the heat. Reaching out a covered hand to the hot container, for some reason Zin could not explain, instead of grasping the container, her cushioned hand bumped the lip, and the glass with the hot venom crashed to the table top.

A loud explosion accompanied the breaking of glass. Green smoke, sparks and a horrendous smell filled the room. Zin fell to the floor unconscious, as the odor and smoke filter out of her home through her secret entrance.

An unknown time later a moaning, groggy Zin sat up, trying to make sense of what had happened. She started at her fingers and worked her way through the rest of her body, checking for any evident damage from the blast of the fatal chemical. Finding none, Zin pulled herself to her feet and surveyed the wreckage the blast had caused.

"All things considered, I suppose it wasn't too bad." The dark elf went to get a broom to sweep up the mess in the floor.

Walking back to her work table with the broom, Zin stopped in front of her mirror. She stood staring at her reflection. With big bright eyes, she used a trembling hand to reach back and untie her hair. Zin's hair fell down around her face in waves of the deepest, darkest green she had ever seen.

"Green? Why is my hair green?" Zin asked in a shaking whisper. The more she stared at the hair flowing around her face and down her back, the more her limbs trembled. Suddenly she let out an ear shattering scream. Dropping the forgotten broom, Zin began to tear and rip at her green locks. Her fingers brushing the hilt of the small sharp dagger hidden under those green tresses, she yanked it out with a hand full of hair and began to saw and slice at the offending hair, throwing long strands as she went.

Finally, Zin noticed her arms ached and her throat felt raw, she stopped stabbing at what was left of her hair, and lowered her throbbing arms. She cocked her head sideways, looking at her knew reflection in the polished metal. The drow stood in a small pile of dark green, with scattered strands adorning her clothes. What was left of her hair stood up in deep green spikes, about a half inch to an inch all over her head.

Staring at herself, Zin began to smile then to laugh delightedly. Clapping her hands together, she started doing a little shuffling dance kicking the fallen hair around the room. Stopping her impromptu dance, Zin turned back to the mirror, "Now, I look like me."

Picking up the dropped broom, Zin went about cleaning up her mess. She had a lot to do, if she were to have that batch of poisons ready for sale in two cycles.


	3. Chapter 3

Little Pleasures

This really shows how far I've fallen. Or maybe it shows more of what I'm capable of.

At one time I would be doing this on satin or the plushest velvet, imported from the world above at great expense. At that time I would have chosen my partner. He would have been only the best to be had by Zin'vey Na'Shar, the only daughter of the twelfth house. He would consider himself lucky to have fallen into the lush fabrics with me for a few hours. Then I would have been the one being pleasured, of course I always took great care with my partners, it seemed more fun if both of us enjoyed ourselves.

Now however, I'm laying on my back in this filthy alley, I don't even want to know what that smell is. The broken stone is cutting into my back. I'm sure they'll be a bruise there, if it's not already.

Look at this clumsy idiot. Why is he even wasting his coins on me? A gate post or any inanimate object would serve him just as well. I'll be glad to remove him of his coins though. A few more than he offers, if I can get my hands close to his purse.

Of course after my pretty Ril, I suppose everyone else would be downhill. Now he had some talent. What a shame.

Ok, this is no fun at all. I'm tired of this heaving, bucking, brainless idiot. I'll find some other way to get coins for supplies.

Now, how to get him off me, he has no idea I'm even here. I think if I just rolled him over and left, he'd never know. No, I know a much better way, let's see if he notices this.

Which would work better? Hm, a kobold? No. A goblin? No too small. Ogre? I doubt he would care. I know, a nice big warty she orc. I can't wait to see his face when he notices he's been bouncing on a smelly orc for the better part of an hour.

HA! He noticed. Took him long enough. Oh, sweet Lord of Shadows, he's actually taking a second look. Now a third. If he gets back on, I'm slitting his throat.

No look, his eyes could fall out of his skull. If only I could get a sketch of that face, to keep.

"BOO!" I couldn't refuse.

HA! He screams like a little girl child. Listen to that.

Oh and lookie here, he left his entire money purse, and a nice long sword. Wonder how much I can get for that?

Of course his left behind shirt looks better on me than it ever did him. Too bad he had enough sense to grab his boots and trousers. I could have used new ones.

Whistles a lively nonsense tune

I wonder if that little shop on the corner still has that set of adamantite poison vials?

Zin is copyright my sicko mind.

The john, well he's all by himself.


End file.
